


Slip of the Tongue

by CookieCatSU



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: He has a crush on John, John does nothing to help that, M/M, Merle is an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27649310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieCatSU/pseuds/CookieCatSU
Summary: john: i must look beautiful from your perspectivemerle, gazing at john: you're a tall drink of water if i've ever seen onejohn: what?merle: *sweating and reaching for the pitcher* i said i'll take a drink of that water, thanksMerle is a dummy, and is also in love with the Hunger. Like a dummy. That's the fic.
Relationships: Merle Highchurch/The Hunger | John
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	Slip of the Tongue

The parley parlor is peaceful, quiet. Unusual but not at all unheard of. 

Merle watches John, head leant up against the back of his hand. The other rolls the knight piece between thumb and forefinger, as he gazes intently at the chess board. Merle knows he's thinking deeply about his move, if the furrow of his brow is any indication. He chews thoughtfully at his bottom lip, so teasing. Merle can't stop looking.

Merle shifts in his seat, totally unable to focus on the actual damn game. You know, the task at hand. Instead he's staring at spindly, delicate hands, playing with the pawn now, and dark hair, graying near the edges of the man's temples, falling in his eyes as he leans over. Brushing against his nose.

Merle could watch him forever, honestly. The way his lips move as he talks and, damn, he's been talking for a while huh?

"I said, Check, Merle" He laughs, put off, just the tiniest bit annoyed, and Merle, honestly, feels like he might catch fire. He shakes his head, "Honestly, what is up with you today?"

There's a lot of answers to that, of course. The best being that he's become totally enamored of the avatar of all the destruction in the universe. Certainly not something he should say aloud.

Or something he should be doing, honestly, but Merle's never really had much sense, anyway. No point in gettin' none now, right?

"Sorry pal. I just gotta lot on my mind" John frowns at that, hands clasping beneath his chin. Waiting, with that intense gaze, for Merle to continue. That same gaze he leveled at the chess set. Like he was trying to look through him, or something.

It makes Merle feel very warm.

He laughs awkwardly, "But hey, I'm here. You've got my full attention"

"Good" His smile is sharp and satisfied, at least as satisfied as the insatiable can be, "let's move on, shall we. I'm sure you have some questions you'd like to ask of me"

Merle nods.

"Whatcha been up to pal?"

* * *

He's looking out the window, across sunsets and open skylines, talking all the while about the Hunger.

All about his vision. About how wonderful it must be. How wonderful he _knows_ it is.

He turns to Merle, smiling softly, bright eyed and so very proud of himself, so _satisfied,_ and he says, "I must look _beautiful_ from your perspective"

And Merle, idiot that he is, says, "Hmmhm. You're a tall drink of water, if I've ever seen one" while still gazing at the man appraisingly. Dreamily.

Without a thought of the repercussions. Because truly, the man is beautiful, even when he's petulant, or angry, or staring at him dubiously.

Like he is now. 

"What?" 

Merle breaks out into a sweat, and reaches uselessly for the water pitcher across from him (anything to hide how red, and hot, and stupid he is), "I said I'll take a drink of that water, thanks"

John just stares at him, hands clasped, bemused. Then he just nods, and snatches up the water pitcher Merle was _still_ struggling to reach, himself.

Then he leans over the table, getting infinitely closer, presumably so he can pour him a glass. Now, John's so close Merle could reach out and touch him, if he wanted. Whatever protest he was about to mount dies on his lips.

"All you had to do was ask, Merle" John says softly, as he pours his glass full. Leaning ever closer. Movements crisp and calculated.

"I am still a gentlemen, after all" He takes a step back, examining his handiwork. 

His smile is clear-cut, and sharp- perfectly creased silk, when he gazes back at Merle.

And suave. _Super_ suave. And hot.

Pan, this man was going to be the death of him.

"Thanks" Merle says, with a weak laugh.


End file.
